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Stormhammer: the Assault on Sul

Well since the forums are being resurrected, and I have no idea how much of this stuff is backed up here I go, posting it again

The Stormhammer Brigade

"It had finally happened. After months upon months of watching loyal Cygnaran soldiers killed in the streets of Sul under his command, butchered in the name of the Creator of Man, Stryker had decided that it must end at any cost. The traitors to the crown had to be brought to heel; the vicious street to street fighting was too costly on the kingdom's strength with Khador threatening from the north. Some said he finally snapped, that the months of constant bloodshed had drained him of the last dregs of pity for the Menite traitors.

Under the auspices of the title of Lord Commander, Stryker returned to Nemo's labs once more. His old mentor was occupied to the north fighting in Llael to stem Khador's tide, and his laboratory lay unguarded, his assistants left to monitor the experiments there. Taking advantage of his absence, Stryker took control, claiming both the assistants that had helped build the legendary Thunderhead and the ransacked Khadoran war material that had been shipped back to the lab for study after the war was over. Many of the assistants were secret adherents of Cyriss, incorporating their technology and the Maiden's plans into Nemo's experiments; they were overjoyed to have new work.

Utilizing the tougher Khadoran technology, enhanced by the arcane mechanika of Nemo's lab, Stryker was able to create armor on par with anything the northmen could dream of. Whispers abound that the rushed development of the armor resulted in an even poorer safety record that the temperamental Man O' Wars the designs were based on, and that none of those who volunteered for Stryker's new regiment have been heard from again. The rogue witch Alexia has been seen in his company more and more frequently, and that her knowledge of life after death was instrumental to correcting major flaws in the armor. The darkest of rumors hint at a further deal with an Infernal, but no one can bring themselves to believe Stryker would go so far. Still, tales of jet-black horses with manes of fire riding through the streets of Sul strike fear into the hearts of men on both sides of the firing lines.

All that is known for certain is that no living soldier of his new brigade has been seen outside of their armor; indeed, the only troops that are not encased in the new suits are the lab assistants themselves, who occasionally turn up on the field of battle testing weird weaponry that defies belief. But no one dares question Stryker anymore about his motives or his methods. The Lord Commander has tired of losing men in the endless invasion, and he intends to put a stop to it.

He has created the Stormhammer brigade to end the war. No matter what it may cost his soul."

Lord Kommandant Stryker
(aka Irusk)

Any doubts that Stryker had any mercy left in him have been crushed in recent weeks. After cannibalizing his own armor for parts and research he has grown harder, more strident in his desire to take Sul. Some even say that his dedication has turned to a dark obsession, and that insanity dances behind his goggles. Stryker teeters on the edge of madness, his loyalty to the crown obliterating all traces of kindness. He has seen too many die, and his grief has spawned fury. The other commanders have begun to call him "Lord Kommandant" behind his back, as he seems more and more like the Khadorans in his stubborn refusal to bend. Soon he might even be facing outright revolt from the other Cygnaran commanders, and dispatches have been sent to King Leto asking for him to replace Stryker. Yet even if his beloved king orders him back from the front it is doubtful Stryker will obey. The Lord Commander is resolute to save his country from the Menite traitors, even if Cygnar turns on him for his efforts.

Bill Braddock had always been a bear of a man, a devout Morrowan that followed Stryker into battle as a journeyman, and later, as warcaster. The Lord Commander came to rely on the good-natured man's council in times of war. Bill's jovial nature off the battlefield was only matched with his rapid strikes during battle, garnering him the moniker of "Lightning" Bill for how quickly he could bring an enemy to their knees. All of that changed when the war started. It was the loss of Braddock in street to street fighting that finally pushed Stryker over the edge. Refusing to accept his friend's death, he turned Braddock's body over to Alexia and the arcane mechaniks with instructions to return him to life.

While no record of his death was ever entered into the rolls, those that served under him knew he had gone missing in the heat of battle. So the soldiers were astonished when they saw "Lightning" Bill back on the battlefield once more, carving through the Menites at the head of Stryker's new brigade. But this wasn't the friendly officer that his men had followed without question. This new Braddock was sluggish, slow to respond, until the stormchambers affixed to his warcaster armor flash jagged bolts of electricity in a halo around his head. Twin metal studs on his forehead glow with the energy, and Braddock leaps into action, all of his old strength returned, his blade a whirling cyclone of death. Even when at rest he twitches, the axe in his hand ever ready. No jokes, no mercy, no love for his fellows are left to "Lightning" Bill.

In actuality the two metal studs on Braddock's forehead are twin electrodes, buried deep within the man's brain. Alexia and the others were unable to bring Stryker's friend back from the grave, so in return they gave him a powerful weapon instead. Braddock's brain is constantly stimulated by the energies that arc around him to keep it from dying again, and the result is an unstable berserker who reacts with the swiftness and finality of a lightning strike on the enemy.

Normal warjacks are of little use to Stryker in the close-quarters fighting in the rubbles of the city of the faithful. Menites laid traps constantly that disabled the Ironclads and other heavy Cygnaran jacks. But when a burnt and broken husk of a Khadoran Devastator arrived into his hands from the conflict of the north the Lord Commander knew that he had the answer to his problem. No ****ytrap could penetrate its hull, no infiltrators could get behind it or disable its shield. It was the epitome of sheer, raw brutality. It was the heart of what the new brigade stood for.

And so it was retrofitted for new duty; but rumors abounded that something was wrong with this 'jack. It wasn't simply reactivated. Something inside it has changed. No one knows what the mechaniks from Nemo's labs did to rebuild it, how they modified it to run on more than just stormchambers. And truthfully, no one wants know.

Emotionless, these armored shells march forward, scourging all in their path. The feeble weapons of the insurgents bounce off steel tempered by the best scientists in Cygnar, and a cold electric glow flickers from the visors, illuminating the faces of their victims. The heart of the Stormhammer brigade is made up of such armored monstrosities, and wherever they go the battle lines are redrawn. The Lord Commander's greatest triumph was the integration of the tainted Cygnaran technology with the unrelenting Khadoran armor.

Yet even as he uses them, he understands what they are. The volunteers that entered the suits will never leave again. Cyriss tech traps their souls inside, and to a man they all died as soon as they powered the deadly machines up. Their charred skeletons pilot the armor now, constantly electrocuted, never dying, their loyalty to Cygnar imprinted into the machines themselves. Even when they fall in battle they find no peace; as long as the internal arcane circuitry is not breached they will continue in their half-existence. Stryker knows well he condemned himself when he sealed the soldiers into the armor. But he knows without a doubt that his silent legion will shield the faithful of Morrow against the ravages of the Menite traitors. If a few souls are the cost of his success, then he is willing to pay that price. Even if his is counted amongst them in the final tally.

Although Stryker's new strategy of brutal tenacity has yielded results, even the most resolute army must employ a rapid counterstrike force to avoid being flanked. Hearing tales of the Khadoran Dragoons, Stryker set out to bring such a power to his own ranks. But Cygnar lacked the incrediblely strong horses they bred in the north, limiting his options. The Lord Commander was not one to take a setback so easily, and so in the dead of night he bartered with his battered soul for one last boon, one last trick he could grant to the crown. A fiery steed was his reward, one strong enough to carry even the mighty weight of the Stormhammer armor. While at first cautious in his deployment, Stryker had grown bolder with the placement of his Dragoon, and neither side's soldiers can easily miss the implications of the nightmare equine's flaming tail and hooves. To Stryker, the Menite fear of damnation is just another weapon to use against them.

"As the siege of Sul has worn on Stryker has simply become more and more determined to see the Menite threat eradicated. When other men would have despaired at the street to street guerilla warfare Stryker instead pushed harder, destroying everything that lay in his path. Despite their concerns about the danger the lab assistants he stole away from Nemo's abandoned Caspian lab agreed to place an experimental arcane control system in Stryker's warcaster armor that links him directly into the Stormhammer brigade. With the control relays mounted on his shoulders he can issue commands at the speed of thought to the Cyriss soul circuits in the Stormhammer suits, pushing the armored corpses to greater feats of destruction and mayhem. The flag of the Black Swan flies high above the ruins of countless Sul buildings, and Stryker will not rest until the entire city and it's traitorous inhabitants have been reduced to nothing but rubble and ash."

"When the wreck of the Thunderhead were returned to Nemo's labs from the northern war Stryker knew that the lab assistants he had 'convinced' to help him could not rebuild such a pinnacle of technology. But they did have enough skill to combine the Thunderhead's remains with the s****ped remnants of an unknown ultra-heavy Khadoran 'jack that had been shipped back for ****ysis to create a warjack capable of destroying anything that stands in its way!

Although they were unable to replicate the pulse lightning technology that Nemo pioneered the lab assistants were able to incorporate new advances in controlling and creating storms that Cygnaran labs had been studying. Using the massive generators salvaged from the Thunderhead the new Stormbringer 'jack is able to power twin storm towers mounted on its shoulders to generate and manipulate storms over the rebellious city of Sul. Dark clouds gathering over the battlefield herald this devastating weapon, as lightning arcs up from the shoulder towers, feeding and directing the resulting storm. Bolts of destructive lightning flash down from the sky in response to every arc discharge from the miniature towers, which have become known as 'storm mortars' due to both their power and their lack of accuracy. The lightning fights against being controlled and lashes out against any unlucky enough to be in the general area of the target. But Stryker doesn't care about the collateral damage the weapon causes as long as after the acrid smoke clears there are Menite bodies lying motionless under the cloudy skies.

Massive enclosed turbines on the backs of the Stormbringer's hands feed on the storm's energy as well, crackling with condensed electricity as it strikes any enemy foolish enough to come to close. The lightning flashes forward at the last moment from the turbines, weakening metal and other dense materials the moment before impact. The stronger the material the more brittle it becomes, making a mockery of armor in any form.

The Stormbringer warjack is not a subtle weapon, and as the ominous dark clouds of the storms that herald its arrival cover the battlefield fear grips the hearts of the faithful of Menoth, for neither prayer nor shield can stop the monster that has been unleashed."

"In the annals of history men like Leonardo Aleistero are often forgotten, and that's just the way they plan it. Master Aleistero was the chief lab assistant that helped Nemo draft the plans for and build the original Thunderhead, but it was a ruse to lead the elderly warcaster down a path that would lead to a turning point in his life. Unbeknownst to Nemo his lab assistant was a fervent worshiper of the Maiden of Gears and had been planted in the lab with explicit instructions to guide the warcaster towards becoming part of the Great Work. It was Aleistero that whispered tantalizing secrets of Cyriss into Nemo's dreams as the old man slept in the workshop, luring the warcaster farther and farther down the path of unintentional Cyriss worship. When war broke out with Khador and Nemo answered the call Aleistero saw his plans thrown into ruins, but with Stryker's mass requisition of Nemo's labs and workers the crafty Cyrissist saw a new opportunity. He made himself indispensable to Lord Stryker, gaining his trust by deciphering and adapting many of Nemo's inventions that the old warcaster had deemed too dangerous or unstable to use. It was Aleistero who first incorporated the Cyriss soul circuitry into the Stormhammer suits, and it was he who manipulated Stryker into testing the suits out on his troops, knowing full well the circuitry would destroy their bodies and enslave their souls. Aleistero has found Stryker to be a much more easily controlled pawn than Nemo ever was, and the plans of the Maiden advance once more.

Unfortunately Aleistero grew too bold, too sure of his superiority, and his personal schemes began to endanger the Maiden's plans. While rebuilding the s****ped Thunderhead into its new form Aleistero was punished by his goddess when a surge of electricity escaped from a breached stormchamber and struck him. It charged every nerve ending, sending Aleistero into unending pain and turning his body into a massive battery filled to bursting with lightning. Aleistero only survived by having a regulator device installed directly into his spine that allowed him to direct and discharge excess energy along a specially designed staff. Aleistero has been cursed to continuously absorb any electricity he comes in contact with, and must periodically release the energy stored in his body or fry from the inside out. He knows that Cyriss has given him a second chance to prove himself, and he accepts the constant pain from being a living lightning rod as penance. He has rededicated himself to seeing the Maiden's plans fulfilled and the religion that would stop Her destroyed, and can often be found on the battlefield unleashing the fury of the storms directly into the Menites or disrupting their prayers to Menoth with a static shield generated by his own fervent belief and lightning-charged body."

"The acrid smell of ozone drifts across the battlefield as the hollow shells of the Stormhammer brigade close in. Unlike those that carry the halberd and shield these Stormhammer suits carry their namesake into battle, a charged maul that can release the fury of a thunderstrike with each impact, shattering bone and metal alike. No structure, no warjack, no faithful of Menoth can stand against the hatred released with every blow from the crackling hammers."

?Bill Braddock once possessed a variety of human emotions, but now there is only a single one left to him: hate. It spread like a virus through the experimental link in the Cyrissist temple where he was rebuilt, and it directs his simplistic battle plans as he leads his personal war through Khadoran and Menite-occupied lands. No amount of mutilation by the chirurgeons of the Cult of Cyriss could ever hope to pry loose the primal rage that drives the Butcher of Sul onwards, burning with a twisted combination of patriotism and loyalty to the false Stryker. Such is the strength of both his beliefs and rage that it bleeds out into the very air around him, twisting and warping the minds of those closest to the warcaster.

Despite assurances that the desecration of the Temple where he was reborn is according to the Maiden's mysterious plans, the high clergy of the Cult are beginning to worry. Not only has the infiltrator unit impersonating Stryker slipped its reins, so too has the Butcher of Sul defied their plans for him, striking out with a crazed army drawn from the very Temple that he infected with his dread rage. Dark whispers are beginning to circulate that none of this is under the Maiden's control, that perhaps Her followers and power are being subverted by a pair of crazed experiments gone horribly wrong.

But no matter who truly controls him, there is little doubt that 'Lightning' Bill Braddock, the Butcher of Sul, will obliterate everything that stands against him in his mad crusade, plunging Cygnar back into war before she is ready by provoking her enemies with his unrelenting and vicious assaults."

Be fair, Maleficarum, I at least advanced at you, instead of huddling in my deployment zone against the inevitable Strider assault

@neiltj1: Thanks! It's been around for a while, although with the new forums everything's new, so to speak. I used to run only MOW in the army; sadly, with the advent of Mk2 I find myself having to turn to other infantry to fulfill the needs of the new metas. Luckily I wrote a bit of fiction in the links above to justify such a move, so perversion of Khador abounds!

In other news, got the Spriggan done, just have to photo it up and post it

Third time? Actually, this is the first repost of them ever. I tend to try and keep all my craziness to single threads I do wish we could edit the subject lines like in the old forum to let folks know when there's a new conversion, so they don't click on the link expecting more.

@PG_Kakita: Actually from this point forward most of them will likely be a bit more savage and wild, or more a melding of Cyrissist and Cygnar looks. Well, to a certain extent; can't abandon the old standby of heresy Khador Current plans are some Widowmakers, maybe a mortar, Beast 09 if I can ever man up and actually spend some money (I'm a miser heh), and quite a few character solos, both merc and in-faction. With the holidays and family time coming up we'll have to see how much I can actually get done

Beast 09.... I think you can convert him from either a juggy or kodiak... or if you can afford to wait... mod him from a plastic jack? It's hard to believe you're a miser... I would've thought that all of these conversions require quite a bit of purchasing from the bits store =p

If you have more cyrissist bits that would be great. I love the crazy steampunk ness this army could make.

ESPECIALLY AIYANA AND HOLT. Don't think you can just hide them in your writing... I know they're out there somewhere

@PG_Kakita: Heh, it's due to the bits orders that I am a miser and try to carefully plan my purchases ... those things add up! I'm trying to convince myself that buying the extreme Juggernaut and converting him's the same as Beast, but hard to open the creaky wallet for it You did indeed spot A&H in the stories, although I'm not sure just how much, if any, conversion work will be done on them. After all, they may be Preceptors, but they're also very human-looking save for their eyes.

@Justin Kase: Thanks The old boards still exist, you just can't post on them; PPS Simon put a link up in the General form in his stickied post, so if there's anything you want to save, go get it! In reference to the events, money issues preclude me from attending most of the cons unless they're local ... and I don't mean "California local" I mean "Sacramento and her suburbs" local heh. Hopefully next year the finances ease up a bit and I can actually attend an out-of-town tourne/con.

Hey MercyKiller- if you promise to keep up the great story and the beautiful conversion work, I'd be happy to throw a model or two your way, and I doubt I'm the only one! What are you looking to get next?

Glad to see that this made it over. Love the whole army, well, I like the behemoth slightly less then the others, but that's cause I'm not a fan of the Behemoths sculpt in general. Keep up the good work! Lets get some of them doom reavers!

Wow, ForsakenPoptart, I don't quite know what to say, never had folks offer me minis before just to see me butcher/paint them. Uh ... well ... hrm, wasn't expecting that. I'm not sure that it wouldn't be crass to create a "wishlist" on the army's thread though, and I certainly don't want to pander for minis. Of course there's always PMs ...

And yeah, Foon, the Behemoth can be a pain, although not for the reason you mentioned ... I'm actually dreading what I have to do next. Due to my conversions his arms are incredibly in the way when I try and play him and put other minis nearby, so I've been contemplating trying to saw them off, drill out spaces in the arms and shoulders, and use rare earth magnets so that they can detach to fit in with battles if need be. Except I'm not sure the magnets will keep the arms secure and even if they do I might break the arms sawing them off. Not a very attractive prospect either way. Part of me wants to hack him apart, keeping the bits I like, and recombine him with an Extreme Juggernaut like I saw done on the old forums. The sane part of me slaps the back of my head and asks if I want to double the cost of the damn thing

"Horace Laddermore, the grand-uncle of Katherine Laddermore, was an embarrassment to his family during the time of Vinter’s reign. Whereas the rest of the family strove to increase their powerbase with ruthless efficiency and cunning, Horace was content to follow his intelligence into astronomy and mathematics, silently condemning the rest of the family with his refusal to put his mind towards advancing the family’s cause. Reviled as a worthless dreamer, Horace was treated as an idiot relative and given his own quarters with a small telescope with which to amuse himself. One night while stargazing Horace was blessed by a vision from Cyriss that foretold the downfall of Vinter and a new destiny awaiting the bloodline of Laddermore. When the servants brought him breakfast the next morning they found Horace missing, drawn away in the night by the sweet subtle whispers of the Maiden to one of her many hidden temples.

There he studied both the arts of war as well as of the mind. Despite his refusal to engage in the political games of his family Horace still possessed the legendary Laddermore will to fight, and the priests encouraged him to train in their own arcane ways of war. As the years passed he excelled in his studies and quickly rose through the ranks as a respected guardian and student of the temple, all the while secretly keeping tabs on a rebellious grand-niece that had been born named Katherine. Horace felt pride at her insubordinate nature as she grew, and when he was finally granted the reward of ascension to the ranks of the Warders he chose as his weapons a shocklance and shield out of respect for the only member of his earthly family that displayed both intelligence and integrity.

When the high priests of the cult called for reinforcements in the secret war against the God of Ignorance, the longing to see the lands of his birth led Horace to travel to the Temple of the Inevitable Binomial Union and have his sleek Warder body retrofitted to pass as a warjack. During Braddock’s breakout Horace was carried away in the same tide of hatred and patriotism as the others, establishing a permanent link with both Braddock and his master, the infiltrator Stryker. Under the warcasters’ control he became little more than a semi-sentient automaton, carrying out their orders and whims without hesitation or rebellion.

In the calm between battles Horace is occasionally able to remember himself again, and he gazes up at the constellations, trying to discern why the Maiden has decreed that he spend his immortal service to her in this fashion. But the stars never answer, and what used to be Horace Laddermore soon dissolves back into the raging maelstrom of battle, the once kindly and peaceful scholar warped beyond recognition into a mindless weapon that eagerly seeks the blood of its masters’ enemies."

"The remnants of Bill Braddock?s men tried to flee the insane giant as much as the war itself, but before they could reach safety the crazed warcaster caught and broke them. Trenchers and Long Gunners lay dead and dying as two of the Maiden?s preceptors came upon the scene, saving lives far past caring and denying them Urcaen?s merciful embrace. Rather than the peace of death the remnants of the deserters awoke to find themselves strapped into Cyriss machinery, their bodies repaired and enhanced with strange clockwork that whispered to them a nightmarish plan. Their flesh became the canvas upon which Chirurgeon Ovash painted his hellish masterpiece, an amalgamation of flesh and metal that proved stronger that either alone. Yet they were only partially repaired and programmed when Braddock?s infectious rage spread through the psychic link of the Temple of the Inevitable Binomial Union. Many died as they thrashed against their bonds, but a few lived and ripped free of their restraints, their countenances mutilated and trapped behind the glittering mechanika masks that sustained them.

Without breath or sound they took up the arms that had been prepared for their eventual service, giant blades housing generator units that charge the thick metal with a power far beyond what mortal man was ever meant to wield. Their minds were fragmented, torn, and into this chasm poured all of Braddock?s hatred, all of his unreasoning rage intermixed with a vicious and brutal loyalty to Cygnar that would sicken any sane man. Their brains alight with arcane fire the newly-born Storm Reavers burst from the Temple into the night, following a warcaster just as broken and savage as they, cleansing Immoren of all those who dare oppose the will of the Black Swan."

All righty, finally, after six months, I'm back with new models! Until I find out about possible plastic MOWs I've temporarily stopped worked on them (as opposed to the 2-3 months where I was literally just waiting on the Khador book heh). I decided to go ahead and run with a theme list for eBraddock until I know about the MOW, and chose the 'easy' option of Doom Reavers. Ha! I spent the last month figuring out the conversions, but now that they look the way I want the rest should go slightly faster. The blades I struggled with for a long time, trying to find a hefty sword to match the doom reavers' original massive blades. Finally I gave up and made them custom swords If you look closely you'll see Stannis Brocker's sword hacked to bits and put back together with a lightning coil encased in styrene (thanks Justin Case for the measurements for Brocker's sword, it helped!). No less than six pinning-holes have to be drilled for each sword, which is one hell of a pain in the thumb! The half-skirts were inspired by the elf king's Raven Guard in Hellboy 2 (as was the general shape of their generator blades); I just loved the alien and savage beauty of the things. As Warsmith pointed out at our store it also scratches my "I love Egyptian looking things" itch, so I got all my tastes in one go

The funny thing is that while I originally wanted to go with the Storm Reavers as a "quick and easy" army to hold me over they actually take more conversion than the MOW and more freehand; I'm not exactly smart, I know this Ah well, such is life.

Hope you all enjoy them, and don't worry, more WILL come at a pace greater than one post per six months!

I was just reading another thread about classic v customised colour schemes and was reminded of this army. Not only does it use blue instead of Khador red, but the the entire army is subverted into the service of another faction.

Those new Doom Reavers look great. The swords especially look like Cygnar tech yet still stratforward and brutal.